


Monsterfalls

by You_will_always_end_up_here



Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: Monsterfalls AU - Freeform, monsterfalls - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-07-19
Updated: 2015-07-24
Packaged: 2018-04-10 03:28:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 2,339
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4375424
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/You_will_always_end_up_here/pseuds/You_will_always_end_up_here
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Basically my take on this wonderful AU</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Peaceful Days

**Author's Note:**

> Ayo, this fic ignores most of the structural damage to the town from NWHS. I'm pulling 'cartoon logic' on this one

The week leading up to the Incident was normal. As normal as anything in Gravity Falls. What triggered the Incident was a fairly innocuous thing, really. A meeting in a dusty room at town hall, on water usage and alternatives to the (currently worryingly low) reservoir. Attendance, as one might expect, was limited to those whose presence was necessary and those with nothing better to do. In the midst of these dull proceedings, a decision was reached to utilize some of the mountain streams to supplement the town's water needs. Environmental concerns were raised, appeased, raised again, politely told to take a hike, and the measure passed.  
It was all very humdrum.  
Scouting water sources began the next day. A number of streams were chosen, including one that hadn't been mapped, for the project. Work progressed surprisingly quickly, and the additional water was soon added to the town's reserves.  
This all turned out to be a _Bad Idea_. Yes, with capital letters. They're necessary.

 

Stanley Pines had had a surprisingly boring day. His brother was still in the basement, the kids were out playing in the yard(not hunting down anything dangerous for a change, thank god—punching a pterodactyl looked amazing, he was sure, bad damn if his hands hadn't hurt for days afterward). It was peaceful.  
In his experience, that never boded well.  
But here he was, sitting in his chair, reading the paper(“City Hall Solves Water Problem—Greener Grass Ahead”), and being left alone to his thoughts.  
There's the downside he was waiting for.  
He'd only just gotten his twin back a week ago. One short week. But he didn't have Ford back. Not really. They'd yelled, punches had been thrown. Nothing had been repaired. Now he stayed up here with the kids and with the tourists he conned, while Ford largely stayed in the basement, doing who knows what.

“GRUNKLE STAN!” a child's shrill voice startled him from his reverie. Quickly rushing out the door to where the kids had last been playing, he looked around for what was wrong. “Kids? KIDS?!” Nothing.  
Yeah. No way a peaceful day ever turned out well. Ever. In fac--  
Before he could think up any further on what might have happened to the kids, a water balloon was launched at him from behind a bush, hitting him square in the face.  
“GOTCHA!” Mabel crowed.  
“Kids....” Stan grumbled. Turning to go back inside and towel off, he smiled slightly to himself.

 

__________________

“D'you think they'll ever get along again?” Mabel asked her brother quietly.  
Dipper shrugged, “Honestly? I don't know. Great Uncle Ford seems set on never forgiving Grunkle Stan.”  
Wendy stuck her head out the door, “Which one of you threw the water balloon?”  
Dipper pointed at Mabel.  
“Awesome aim!” Wendy gave a thumbs up and retreated inside.

_________________

Dinner was “what's left in the fridge”. In other words, hotdogs with whatever one managed to get their hands on. (Mabel won the fight for the last bun and ketsup, Stan got the mustard, and Dipper stared dejectedly at the mayo he was left with, deciding that plain was far better).  
Perhaps it was the nature of the day it had been, but that night everyone(including Ford, who barely slept) turned in early. An odd sense of fatigue most attributed to the summer heat over powering even the strongest will to stay up late.


	2. Angry Twin is the Most Effective Alarm Clock

 

 

 

 

The next morning(far too early, according to his back pain) Stanley was awoken by, wait, roaring? What the hell would be _roaring?_

As soon as he processed that anything that would be roaring would also be a threat, he was out of bed and across the room, still somewhat tangled in the blankets if the weight on his back was any indication. Trying to shake off the blankets, he realized it wasn't the blankets. Wings. Grey, batlike wings. What the hell. Stretching out a hand to touch one, he saw that his hands were similarly grey and each finger sported a talon.

What fresh hell is this.

Ford. Ford and whatever he was up to in the basement. Had to be.

Wrenching open the door, he was all set to storm down there and demand a remedy, however--

Once the door was open a gold and red blur slammed into him, snarling.

“Do you _see what activating that portal did, you knucklehead?!_ ”whatever it was growled through sharp teeth.

Wait...he stopped struggling to kick it off of him. Somewhat, “...Ford? What happened to you?”

“My idiot of a twin didn't heed any of the warnings I wrote in my journals, that's what! And now reality as we know it is unraveling!” Ford snarled. Quite literally.

 

Suddenly, there was high pitched screaming from the attic.

 

“Aaand you woke up the kids,” Stan deadpanned.

Ford growled, “Do you think now is the time to be _funny,_ Stanley?”

“Nope,” Stan replied, “Now's the time for _this!_ ” He punctuated the statement by kicking his twin off of him and across the hallway.

Climbing to his feet, he swore under his breath as the wings put him off balance.

He was cut off by the panicked sounds of Dipper attempting(and failing) to navigate the stairs.

Momentarily forgetting his own predicament, he sprinted(and for a change, didn't really feel it) toward the stairs.

Whatever had affected him and Ford had gotten to the kid as well. Dipper was a...deer centaur? Deer-taur?

“Kid, you okay?” He asked.

The kid had obviously taken the hard way down the stairs, and was sprawled awkwardly on the floor.

Dipper's attention snapped to Stan at the words, and his ears flattened themselves. That was all the warning Stan got before the kid screamed.

“Kid! KID IT'S ME!” He tried. “DIPPER.”

That snapped him out of it. Mostly. Still breathing hard, Dipper said shakily, “You....Claws....wings....I---...Sorry”

Stan huffed out a laugh, “Don't worry about it, kid. You okay? Other than the obvious, I mean.”

 

Dipper blink, “I, uh, yeah...er, maybe bruised. How are you so calm?” He eyed Stan suspiciously.

“My wake up call was a flying tackle by a snarling sphinx,” Stan snarked, pointing at Ford. “I'm past loosing my head over this”

Ford grumbled, “You deserved that. Remember what I said about reality? That's only going to get worse, Stanley.”

 

“I dunno, seems more cursy-magical than sciency to me!” Mabel added, scooting down the stairs.

 

A mermaid. Great. Where's that old kiddy pool when you need it....

 

Dipper brightened up, “If it's a curse that means it might wear off!”

 

“Ever the optimist,” Stan rolled his eyes.

 

Mabel grinned, “Aww, it's not so bad! Dipper's even more adorable than usual, Grunkle Stan has awesome wings, and I'm a _mermaid!_ ” She finished the sentence in an awed whisper.

 

“They aren't awesome,” he retorted.

 

“Better than _this,_ ” Dipper gestured to his lower half, “I'm half _deer_ and scared of _anything_ with sharp teeth! No offense...”

 

“I need to assess how far the effects have spread,” was all Ford said to dismiss himself from the situation.

 

“None taken,” Stan tried to laugh it off. It didn't seem to help.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> comments are not only welcomed, but loved! This is my first solo fic in forever.


	3. Three Bus Rides, Two Bikes, and a Llama

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ford and Stan finally talk. Sorta?

 

Later, Ford stormed back into the shack, startling Dipper again.

 

“The bad news, is that the effects are town wide; the good news is that—as far as I can tell—this has nothing to do with the portal,” he said, attempting to type the code into the vending machine. After the fifth try he growled and punched the offending machine.

“Need help over there, poindexter?” Stan remarked in a deceptively neutral tone.

“What I _need,_ ” Ford growled, “Is hands without talons! Finally...” he succeeded in typing in the correct code.

After the 'door' shut, Stan snorted “Who pi--...er...messed with his cornflakes?”

Dipper stared at him, “Um. Grunkle Stan. In case you missed it. Today is not exactly normal. In fact, it's like the opposite.”

“Nah! Only three bus rides, two bikes and one llama away from normal, bro-bro!” Mabel piped up from the kiddy pool in the living room.

 

As Dipper left to talk to his twin, Stan stepped over to the vending machine. Fumbling the code a few times(wasn't like his and Ford's problems were so different at the moment), he descended into the basement.

 

“Alright, what has you so pissy? Besides the obvious,” he asked in as even a tone as possible.

 

“Besides the obvious? Besides the obvious?! This is more than a slight problem, Stanley!” Ford snapped. “I don't know if it's temporary, reversible, or permanent! The town is in chaos. Your granddaughter is half _fish._ ”

 

“Grandniece,” Stan corrected.

 

Ford frowned at his twin, “I have a PhD; you honestly expected me to miss that egregious mathematical error? Shermy? Really?”

 

“Fine, _fine—_ but that's not why I'm down here. You've got the kids worried. Hell, Dipper's terrified. So answer the question—why're you so pissy?” Stan questioned. Here's hoping the kids didn't do that math. No way they knew how old Shermy is. Shit, worse yet, if they wrote home. Nah. They wouldn't do that, would they?

 

“Stan...just go back upstairs,” Ford sighed, turning back to some notes he was (trying) to work on.

 

Leaning against the wall, Stan yawned, “Nope. I like it down here. Aren't gargoyles supposed to be creatures of the dark and all that bullshit?”

 

“Generally they're found outside, guarding buildings, stone-like when asleep--” Ford stopped abruptly. “Leave it alone, Stan. Stop being an ass.”

 

“Can't help it Ford. It's who I am,” he shrugged. “Everyone's got a talent. Mine is being a fucking useless ass. Every family has one.”

 

“DAMN IT!” Ford roared. “YOU JUST DON'T GET IT, DO YOU? YOU AREN'T USELESS. YOU'VE DONE MORE FOR THIS FAMILY THAN I EVER DID. DIPPER AND MABEL OBVIOUSLY LOVE YOU, THEIR PARENTS MUST AT LEAST TRUST YOU! I'VE RUINED ENTIRE LIVES, STANLEY!” Lowering his voice, he hissed, “Ever wonder why mom and dad never contacted you after you took my name? When I got blinded by my research, we had a falling out. Now look at what I'm left with. Something that could destroy reality as we know it,” he pointed accusingly to the portal. “A family who doesn't trust me—rightly so—and now I can barely hold a pen!”

 

Stan blinked, “You...uh...need to talk about it?”

 

“No,” Ford murmured. “Go spend time with your grandkids. I'll...I'll work on a cure."

 

_It's progress._ Stan told himself. No punches were thrown. So there's that.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I figure Stan curses fairly freely when the kids aren't around(canon supports this). I mean, the man's been to prison repeatedly. (also woops, Grunkle4grandpa is in the story now? I blame tumblr. )


	4. Deer boys are not a mode of transport

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this has not been proof read, so apologies on any typos or mistakes

Meanwhile:

 

 

“Mabel, how are you happy about this? Great Uncle Ford said it's town-wide! There's probably chaos,” Dipper said.

 

Mabel laughed, “You worry too much—Maybe Great Uncle Ford and Grunkle Stan are the only scary ones in town. I'm a mermaid and you're part deer all adorable!” She gasped “Maybe it's an adorableness curse that doesn't work on grumpy old men!”

 

Dipper's eye twitched, “I don't think that's it.”

 

“Lighten up!” Mabel chided cheerfully. “And take me to the lake, I want to make friends with the fish!”

 

“How am I supposed to--” Dipper hadn't even finished the question when Mabel somehow jumped from the kiddy pool on the floor onto his back.

 

“Forward my faithful steed!”

 

What Mabel had not accounted for, however, was Dipper's instinctual panic response.

 

 

And so, when Stan reemerged from the basement, he was greeted by the sight of a mermaid holding on for dear life to a panicked cervitaur who was running at full speed around the shack.

 

_God damn it._ He thought, stepping out of the way. “Kids!” He lunged, managing to pick up Mabel.

“What's going on?”

 

Mabel twiddled he thumbs “Um...deer centaurs don't like to be taxis?”

 

“You got that right!” a _marginally_ calmer Dipper said, breathing hard. “Why did you _do_ that?!”

 

“I wanted to go to the lake,” Mabel said, “Sorry for freaking you out bro-bro.”

 

“Just...just don't do that again,” Dipper breathed.

 

“You two aren't going to the lake anyways,” Stan said, setting Mabel back in the kiddy pool. “Who knows what else is out there? You two are lucky I'm such a nice guy.” He playfully flared his wings and bared his fangs.

 

The kids couldn't quite hide their snickering.

 

“Laugh it up, but you never know--” he was brought up short by the sounds of something crashing through the front door.

 

As something furry, blurry, and vaguely canine barreled into the room, Stan reflexively put himself between it and the kids; the playful threat from a few moments ago now all too serious.

 

Whatever it was whined and backed up, saying, “Woah, chill, Mr. Pines, I--”

 

“Wendy?” He questioned, but it came out as more of a snarl.

 

The wolf-girl still hovered at the edge of the room, “Yeah, I...uh...the entire town is like...this” she gestured to the room vaguely.

 

The gargoyle relaxed, “Yeah, we know. How bad is it?”

 

Wendy shrugged, “You'd think everyone would be panicking, but it's not that bad. Most people are hiding in their houses.”

 

Mabel smiled, “See? We can totally go to the lake!”

 

Dipper was still hiding behind Stan, and muttered, “Dunno, I like that whole 'hide in the house' thing. That sounds fun.”

 

Stan sighed, “I hate to agree with the resident wet blanket, but staying here is a good idea.” _Because leaving poindexter alone is a bad idea._

 

“I'm not a wet blanket!” protested Dipper. “I'm just...very safety minded.”

 

“He's got a point,” Wendy agreed, “I did see a couple of nasty fights on the way over. And Dad already tangled with what I think was a dragon. Don't know who it was.”

 

“Dragon! See!” Dipper exclaimed, gesturing wildly.

 

Stan sighed, “Fine, we're closing the Mystery Shack for now, and staying here.” At Mabel's pout he added, “But, if this still hasn't worn off by tomorrow, we'll go to the lake. Deal?”

 

“I like those terms!” Mabel rejoiced, accidentally splashing Stan and Dipper.

 

“This is going to be a _long_ day,” Dipper grumbled.

 

Stan sympathized, “You said it kid"

 


End file.
